Honor
by A. Windsor
Summary: Nine months after the epilogue to Exile, Sara and Nyssa return for a special occasion. (Post Exile, Pre Impulse)


Laurel and Sin are kind of… buddies?  
That's maybe the biggest shock to Sara, popping back into their lives nine months later. She'd given strict instructions to each of them to look out for the other, and she guesses she's seen hints of it in calls and emails since she left, but it's different seeing it in action, all teasing and inside jokes.  
All racing each other to the car and fighting over shotgun.  
Well, that part was funnier than it was disconcerting, mostly because of Nyssa's affronted face at being relegated to the seat behind Sara.  
"Sorry, babe. Those are the rules."  
Nyssa's eyes promise revenge.  
Laurel wins shotgun, but Sin retains possession of the snacks, so they're probably even.  
Sara decides that this was probably inevitable, Sin and Laurel bonding. As both roommates (Laurel had moved into the third bedroom and they now called it the Birds Nest, apparently) and coworkers in fighting homelessness and hunger by day and crime by night, they either had to hit it off or kill each other, and Sara _is_ glad it's the former, even if it leaves her feeling a little odd (wo)man out.  
"You know I've got my own invitation, Laurel. Your mom loves me. You could have brought another date," Sin teases as they hit the interstate, Central City and Dinah Lance's wedding-bound.  
"But where would I have found one so handsome in a suit?" Laurel shoots back, deflecting.  
"Oh, come on, we all know there's someone in Central City who would jump at the chance to put on a suit and be on your arm."  
"We do?!" Sara exclaims.  
"That is _not_ a thing," Laurel insists.  
"What isn't a thing?" Sara demands.  
"Not a word, Sin. I sign your pay check," Laurel warns.  
"Technically, _Nyssa_ signs both your pay checks," Sara points out.  
"I have access to all of your things," Laurel interjects before Sin can spill. Her cheeks are a little pink.  
"Fine," Sin huffs. "But if they torture me for it, I make no promises. I have a low tolerance for pain."  
As Laurel looks out the window to compose herself, Sara meets Sin's eyes in the rearview mirror and mouths "Later?" and Sin gives her a big thumbs up.  
Good. Sin and Laurel can be buddies, and even sisters, but Sara still kinda wants to be favorite.

* * *

Sara slips her earring into place and grins when Nyssa slides her hands around her waist and begins to press kisses into her neck.  
"If you smudge my makeup or wrinkle my dress, I will throw you across the room." At Nyssa's wolfish grin, buried behind Sara's ear but twinkling in her dark eyes, Sara adds: "And not in the fun way."  
"It's always fun," Nyssa whispers hotly in her ear, but obediently pulls away.  
" _You_ are bad. And _not_ ready. Get dressed." Not that Sara minds the view. At all. "I'm gonna go check on my sister…s."  
Nyssa catches her wrist, though, when she tries to move to the door of the hotel room.  
"Are you alright, habibti?"  
"Of course," Sara says, puzzled. "Why wouldn't I be?"  
"Your mother is remarrying."  
"Yeah. And we've talked about that. I'm happy she's happy."  
"And you've completely shed your guilt and feelings that if you had not stepped foot on the _Gambit_ your parents would still be together?"  
Okay, sometimes Nyssa knowing her so damn well is super freaking annoying.  
"Hey, those what-ifs are silly. And in all of them, I wouldn't have you." She steps back in and kisses her softly. Nyssa kisses her, but then retreats a little, strong hands on Sara's shoulders.  
"You may not flirt your way out of this conversation."  
"Fine," Sara sighs. "I've _mostly_ let go of them, yes."  
"Mhmm. And how are you adjusting to your newfound status as middle sister?"  
"Stop that."  
"They both continue to care for you, likely above the other."  
"I know."  
"You know or you are saying what I want to hear?"  
"I'm not sure how you expect to get an honest answer out of me when you're wearing that bra, and not much else."  
Nyssa kisses her, not at all softly, and then pushes her toward the door.  
"Check on your sisters. Your mother does have good taste." She gestures to the bridesmaid dress.  
"Laurel picked them."  
"Ah. That makes sense."  
Sara will unpack _that_ statement later.  
"Twenty minutes," she warns as she grabs the door handle. "I'll be back."  
She goes across the hall, and the door is already a little open, propped by the lock, so she pushes in.  
"If you're a scary bad guy, the Black Canary is in the bathroom but still fully capable of kicking your ass before you get any closer," Sin calls from further inside. There's a chuckle from behind the closed bathroom door. "Oh good. It's the other Canary. We're safe."  
Sara smiles warmly when she gets a good look at Sin. She's grown up so much in the last couple years, and she wears her skin with casual confidence now, rather than donning it as armor.  
….Even if she still can't tie a bowtie.  
"Here. Let me get that," Sara laughs, batting Sin's hands away.  
"How do you know how to tie a bowtie?" Sin asks, even as she lets her hands fall.  
"I am a woman of many talents."  
"I don't doubt that, but I still wanna know why bowtie is one of them."  
"My job can involve a lot of identities and disguises."  
"… I want a picture."  
"Sure. I'll make sure I take photographic evidence of my clandestine assassin work."  
"Thank you," Sin grins, and Sara rolls her eyes affectionately, pressing a kiss to Sin's cheek. Then she gives the bow one final tug and smooths the lapels of Sin's suit jacket.  
"You look _great_."  
"Thank you. I am the date of one of the maids of honor, so gotta look good."  
"Nuh huh," Laurel says as she finally exits the bathroom. "I'm the maid of honor. She's the matron of honor."  
"I swear to god, Laurel, if you make that joke one more time, I'm gonna test just how far your training has come."  
Laurel is grinning. "It's not a joke. It's the truth."  
"Just let her have it," Sin recommends.  
"There has to be something good about my little sister getting kinda sorta but not actually married before me."  
"Badass, super rich sister-in-law doesn't count?" Sin asks.  
"Okay, kinda counts," Laurel acquiesces. "Where is your cooler, scarier half anyway?"  
"She's still getting ready. How awesome does your date look?"  
"Amazing," Laurel agrees. "Someone better have the defibrillator ready for when Aunt Ruth realizes we both brought super hot women to the wedding."  
"I know CPR," Sara promises.  
"So many skills," Sin tuts, shaking her head. "You both look gorgeous, by the way."  
Each Lance sister shows off her red evening gown.  
"It's the first time we've worn matching dresses since Sara stripped down to nothing in protest at age four."  
"Well that was drastic," Sin notes, pulling her cuffs into place.  
"I'm an individual," Sara explains.  
"With a side of overdramatic exhibitionist," Laurel clarifies.  
Sara shrugs. She can't argue with that.

* * *

"Your mother is a beautiful bride," Nyssa comments, the hand at Sara's waist pulling her even closer as the music turns slow and familiar and romantic.  
"Yeah," Sara grins, looking over to her beaming mother, who laughs into her new husband's shoulder. "She looks really happy."  
"Very much so. I'm privileged to be invited to share in the event, given the things I've done."  
"Hey, you're family. And family forgives each other. Just look at me and Laurel."  
Nyssa makes a sound of agreement, and Sara's hand squeezes her neck warmly.  
"Dinah introduced me to her employer as her daughter-in-law."  
Sara's eyes snap back to Nyssa's face.  
"Really? That… I'm proud of her."  
Nyssa nods. "I was honored." She pauses. "Do you want something like this?"  
Sara laughs, and immediately regrets it when a brief flicker of hurt crosses over Nyssa's face.  
"I'm sorry, no. I don't. This… isn't us. And it's redundant." It's Sara's turn to pause. "Hey, you know I would have told you if I did, right?"  
Nyssa meets her eyes, which gives away the fact that, no, she didn't.  
"I would have," Sara promises. "If not… before, definitely after I came back. Also, I'm totally capable of proposing to _you_ if I wanted to."  
She says the last part with playful affront, getting an answering smile.  
"But you do not want to?"  
"Nah," Sara grins. She switches to Arabic. "I am your Beloved. You are mine. What else could we need?"  
"Nothing," Nyssa answers in kind.  
"Right," Sara says, back in English. "Don't look now, but Sin has definitely been chatting up that waitress."  
"Leave your little sister alone," Nyssa admonishes.  
"Spoken like a little sister," Sara notes.  
"As are you."  
Sara shrugs, then gets a little serious. "Do you think Rocket's okay?"  
"Just fine," Nyssa assures. "Though likely in need of a diet after being left a week in my father's care. He spoils her."  
"As is his prerogative as Demon's Head," Sara teases.  
"That is what he claims," Nyssa sighs.  
Sara laughs. "Okay, so. Let's make a plan to get this juicy Laurel gossip out of Sin."

* * *

fin


End file.
